Poetry for the Thinking Mind

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Teardrops

These belong to the eyes.

They are clumsy, my eyes

Because they are always dropping tears.

Tears are crystals of liquid,

Shimmering in light,

Impossibly beautiful,

As though their meaning is good.

Why are the gems that fall

Why are they like diamonds?

Sparkling, as if snowflakes?

Their facets are eyes,

Their mines, your emotions,

How did this come to be?

Tears are the gems of your heart.

They show what you think,

Your thoughts are written on these precious stones.

They are merely water,

Yet powerful enough to shift the heavy burden of a Mind.

And they come without warning,

These stones of feeling.

They carve tracks

Into the weathered stone

Of your face.

They are waterfalls

That wash the colour of the world

Out of your eyes.

They drip,

Less than blood,

But still as thick,

And sweeter.

But they cause you to see less colour,

It has been washed away by those rivers

Of ocean water.

So tears cannot stop.

As long as you cannot,

Neither can they.

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